


The Desert Flower

by ilikeyoshi



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2657306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeyoshi/pseuds/ilikeyoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots documenting the the life of Hyacinth and her clan in the Shifting Expanse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let There Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> i've found i like to write tiny drabbles about my flight rising dragons, so, i started putting them, in relatively linear order, [on my flight rising profile](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=39794). and for the heck of it, i thought i'd put them here too? maybe just to try and build my confidence so i can start posting my other fanfic here, hahah...
> 
> this is exclusively a pastime i occasionally dabble with; it might not always align with flight rising lore or canon, and updates will be sporadic and appear as often or scarcely as my muse wills. but i hope, if you happen upon them, you enjoy them!

The shifting waves of desert sand were never kind. When the sun burned its brightest in the center of the sky, the sands bit into anything that laid foot on it, leaving the singes of its grains rather than the cuts of teeth. While in the dead of night, when the sky was black and the moon dyed the desert an otherworldly shade of ghostly white, those fiery sands became frigid, seducing the warmth out of travelers and blackening claws until they disappeared when held to the sky.

Only madmen would choose to live in such cruel waves, whose unforgiving power sucked the life out of all rooted into it. This was no world for lush forests nor wealthy lakes nor pot-bellied life. Those who made their home in the narcissistic sands of the Shifting Expanse were mad, surely, but madness alone wouldn't sustain them here.

It took guts, for one. Guts, ambition and just enough luck to drag you out of your nest in the morning. It took those with nothing to lose and everything to gain. It took a competitive nature that drove you to face every challenge with not the absence of fear, but the will to embrace fear.

Such a place was the only one Hyacinth had ever known, and the only place she ever intended to know.

No flaming day or arctic night, no lifeless waves would deter her from bending and molding the Shifting Expanse to her will. She would conquer it, break it, and then she would raise it up into something worth all the effort. She was mad, surely, but she was by no means dim-witted. She knew perfectly well that madness would not sustain her.

A thousand forgotten memories ago, Hyacinth had a clan. Their eyes all glowed with the light of lightning, and their voices boomed with the crash of thunder. They were destined to bend and mold the desert, yet the waves played with them like debris in the wind. It was a never-ending struggle of blood and sweat and tears, and Hyacinth knew the true madness was in begging the sky for rain.

_Not rain,_  she had told them then. _Ask the sky for something it can give you. Not the rain to soften your barren mouths and wash your dirty scales, but the light to find it._

It seemed simple enough to Hyacinth. The Shifting Expanse was no place for rain, but it was known for an abundance of fleeting lights. Hyacinth had few superstitions, but she had one, and it was that the lightning would guide you. It had always guided her to a wealthy cactus full of water, after all.

What became of her lightning-eyed, thunder-voiced clan was not worth recounting a thousand memories. If the sands left no trace of the dragons it'd seen, then neither would Hyacinth. Instead, she focused on what mattered and what would come to matter. The past was behind her and was as valuable to her as the thought of rain. She could dwell on it, but it would not sustain her.


	2. And Then There Were Two

''Pardon me, miss!''

Hyacinth plucked her head from the shallow depths of what she hoped to be her lair, if the sand would ever stop collapsing into her effort. Like something out of the beginning of a nestling's fairytale, her eyes beheld none other than a boy. He was no boy she'd ever seen before, and if she had her way, he was no boy she'd ever see again.

''Yes, hi,'' he said, all bones and smiles. He was a prime example of what the Shifting Expanse did to idiots. ''Do you have a spot of water you'd, perhaps, be willing to share? Or even just a bite to eat, maybe?''

''Well yes, of course, because I look so fat and well-off myself,'' Hyacinth said.

The boy paused, and for a moment he spared her from his wide, toothy smile, but the courtesy was short-lived. ''Well, your scales look awful pristine, and your jewelry seems expensive to me.''

Hyacinth spared a glance at the bracelets dangling from her wrists and sniffed. Perhaps she should have considered the fact that she did, actually, look pretty healthy and well-dressed before she cracked any jokes about it. No matter.

''Keep flying, buster,'' she said, sinking her claws into the sand again. ''You won't find anything here.''

The boy observed her as she dug for some time. So long as he didn't talk, she supposed she could ignore it. But of course, he had to talk.

''You're not all by yourself, are you?''

''No, I've got you to keep me company,'' she huffed.

His eyes lit up, and she wished she hadn't caught a glimpse of it, because it was actually, infuriatingly, sort of cute. ''You're a nomad, then! Me too!''

''I wonder why...''

''May I ask what happened to your clan? Was it a rockslide? My clan was wiped out by a rockslide.'' He spoke of it not cheerfully, but perhaps with a certain sense of acceptance. Almost as infuriatingly as his lightning eyes was the way his ability to let the past lie seemed to mirror her own way.

It was almost infuriating enough to disarm her own will to speak so nonchalantly of what was, but not quite. ''I left my clan.''

''Left?'' He quirked an eyebrow and grinned at her. ''Or got kicked out?''

Hyacinth flared her nostrils. ''Are you implying they'd have reason to get rid of me?''

''Well, if that's what happened, you sure don't have to be shy about it!'' he said. ''You don't seem that bad to me, so it's not like I'm going to patronize you about it.''

''They didn't kick me out,'' she said.

''Are you sure?''

''Yes, I'm sure.''

''It's okay if they did.''

''They didn't, I left!''

The boy raised his claws, burying his smile in a pucker and closing his eyes like he knew it all regardless. ''Whatever you say!''

Hyacinth threw her head back and returned to digging. The boy crawled over the mound of sand she'd built, peering down into her would-be lair with a curiosity that was too innocent for the Expanse.

''Are you building a lair?''

''Drifting with the sand just isn't doing it for me anymore.''

''Me neither!'' he cheered, floating off the mound and straight into the hole, forcing Hyacinth to retract her arms from her work. ''Wanna build it together?''

Hyacinth frowned at him. ''I just met you.''

''But you like me, right?''

''Why on earth would I like you?''

''Because you're still talking to me?''

She furrowed her eyebrows at him and swatted him with a wing. He yelped and shied away, but just a moment later he was snickering.

''Are you sure you aren't the one that actually got kicked out of your clan?'' she asked.

''What if I did?''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

He smiled. ''What difference would it make to you?''

She opened her mouth, paused and closed it. ''Good point.''

''Really?''

''No,'' she smiled.

He blinked at her, then snickered again. ''You're funny!''

''You're gullible.''

''But you like me.''

She narrowed her eyes in hopes that it would distract him from her smile. ''Yeah, you're okay.''

His eyes lit up again.


	3. What's In A Name?

''You never told me your name.''

''You never asked.''

''I told you mine.''

''Did you?''

''You forgot again!''

''It's been a long time since remembering names was of any use.''

''Ichabod! Ich-a-bod!''

''What's your name again?''

''Would it help if I told you to think of my '' _icky body_ '' when you need to remember my name?''

Hyacinth couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, and even though her eyes were squeezed shut, she'd learned to sense the way the air warmed when Ichabod's face lit up.

''Your body is not icky.''

''Ooh! It's not, is it?''

''I've seen worse.''

''Well, don't I feel handsome?''

''Don't get ahead of yourself.''

''Hey, guess what?''

''What?''

''You still haven't told me your name.''

Hyacinth offered a smile and considered it. Ichabod stared patiently.

''Okay,'' she finally said. ''I'll give you a hint, then you can guess.''

''Give me a good hint.''

''Think of a flower that's—''

''Rose!''

''I didn't finish! A flower tha—''

''Lily!''

''You're not even listening.''

''Pepper!''

''That isn't a flower.''

''Hyacinth!''

''Would you—wait. How did you do that?''

''It's Hyacinth?''

''Of course it's Hyacinth, how did you know that?''

''Hah! Really?''

''Don't play dumb, you didn't just _guess_!''

''I did! I swear I did!''

''How'd you know!''

''I didn't!''

''You had to!''

''Your name is pretty!''

''Your name is icky!''

Her favorite laugh of his was the one that made her think of thunder at dawn.


	4. Home Sweet Home

Centuries passed—or at least, what felt to Hyacinth like them. Centuries of digging, molding, carving, building... but there was fruit to their labor. Walls towered above them; dead tree roots laced the sky-high ceilings and torch lights dotted the carefully designed crevices. It was shabby, but it was home now.

''Why so tall, though?''

Hyacinth lifted her head from her paws. Ichabod laid curled against her back, his head thrown over her flank and resting on her shoulder. The lair's skyscraping walls he spoke of protected them both from the frigid bite of the night's wind and the vengeful flames of the day's sun. Ichabod perched his ears forward, though his eyelids remained heavy with sleep, as he anticipated her answer.

''Foresight,'' she replied.

''Oh?'' he said.

''Someday—'' she looked across their work, at the ceiling that seemed almost a lifetime away, ''—there will be dragons in this lair so tall they'll still need to duck their heads to fit.''

''You plan to build a clan,'' Ichabod said.

She shrugged, laying her head on her paws again. ''I've already started.''

He grinned. ''With me?''

''Who else?'' she glowered at him with one eye, but he saw her smirking.

''You'll be the monarch, then,'' he said.

''Of course,'' she answered, and sighed comfortably.

''Is that why you left?''

''Hm?''

''Your old clan,'' he said. ''To lead your own?''

''Ah.'' She considered her answer. ''No.''

His ears flattened. She felt his jaw shift against her shoulder. ''Why did you?''

''Does the answer change anything?''

''No,'' he frowned. ''I suppose it doesn't.''

Hyacinth sighed again. It was late, and though the lair was shaped, there was still much to do before it was any more inviting than the Shifting Expanse outside. Her dream of rearing a clan was still just as unobtainable as the stars blanketed underneath the indefinite storm clouds in the sky. But she was patient, and she had guts.

''What kind of dragons do you hope to find?'' Ichabod asked later.

''Anyone who can make us stronger,'' Hyacinth said.

''Stronger?''

''Everyone will have a job.''

''What if someone wants a job already filled?''

She screwed up her nose, but didn't open her eyes. ''Depends,'' she said. ''Some jobs will benefit from additional dragons.''

''And those that don't?''

''We don't have the food, room or time for freeloaders.''

Ichabod lifted his head only to press his nose gently to her shoulder. It wasn't a kiss—at least they had never named such gestures that—and it didn't mean anything that a kiss should mean.

''Do you think,'' he began, and paused. ''Do you think one day, we could?''

Hyacinth opened her eyes, staring at the dust on the floor. She was quiet for a time. ''Have the resources?''

''Yes.''

She ground her teeth. ''No.''

Ichabod's body smarted against her. He opened his mouth, but she spoke first.

''But that doesn't mean I'm right.''

He paused, then closed his mouth. She shut her eyes and sighed again. She didn't see him smile, but she felt his body warm with a quiet sense of relief.


End file.
